


cornflowers and caramel cubes

by oatsnhoney



Series: whumping hinata, basically [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anxiety, Appendicitis, Blood, Everyone Is Gay, Fever, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Hurt Hinata Shouyou, Hurt/Comfort, Illnesses, Kageyama Tobio is a Good Boyfriend, M/M, Protective Kageyama Tobio, Recovery, Sick Hinata Shouyou, Sickfic, Surgery, Takeda is good ;-;, Team Mom Sugawara Koushi, Team Parents Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Vomiting, Worried Kageyama Tobio, Worry, i love this tag, it applies perfectly, thank the lord those are tags, title is subject to change pls help
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:48:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23144194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oatsnhoney/pseuds/oatsnhoney
Summary: Kageyama was always observant of his boyfriend, small and beautiful, vibrant and loud. Drinking in each feature, every word that fell from his lips, he could never get his fill. He was utterly enamored.And yet, how could he have missed something as blatantly obvious as this?(pls read tags for a better idea of the story!)
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kageyama Tobio, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, IF U SQUINT - Relationship, Kageyama Tobio/Anxiety, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi
Series: whumping hinata, basically [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678120
Comments: 33
Kudos: 264





	cornflowers and caramel cubes

**Author's Note:**

> i'm back writing fics i'm not supposed to beeeeeee  
> help haikyuu and kagehina is absorbing my life-force and commanding me to create content  
> this was a little hurt/comfort idea (when is it not hurt/comfort with me) that just popped in my head!  
> pls enjoy!! <333 thank u sm for reading! 
> 
> btw, just some warnings!! this does involve vomiting and vomiting blood, as well as other mentions of illness. there are hints to anxiety, but purely situational anxiety!

He looked beautiful that day, Kageyama thought. But, he looked beautiful every day. That didn’t stop his eyes from sneaking glances at him -- his milk skin; tangerine-pink lips, soft and supple (he would know, after all); those freckles that were lovelier than the stars painted in the sky; and, of course, that smile that never ceased to make his heart skip a beat (or ten) and immediately send heat straight to the tips of his ears. 

“Tobio?” His voice, the sound like the morning sun, broke the setter from the stupor he had unknowingly found himself in. (Though, if he were to be honest, this was becoming a daily occurrence.) “You good?” The boy in front of him waved a small hand -- everything about him was small, except for maybe his heart. And eyes. And tenacity. And . . . -- in his face. _Wait,_ when had he started staring?

“Uh, yeah. All good, Hinata.” He could feel his cheeks burning, the back of his neck feeling uncomfortably warm. The sun beating down at them wasn’t helpful in the slightest. Briefly, Kageyama found himself groaning internally -- _When did I become so sappy? It’s gross. He’s gross. But cute._

He slumped against the brick wall, poking absently at the lunch placed in his lap. With a sigh, he switched his chopsticks for a box of milk. His brows pressed together, and he willed the warmth from his face away, as he sucked through the straw. His eyes slid over to Hinata, his partner aimlessly gazing at his food. Oddly, a murmur of distress fell from his lips, and he abruptly closed the lid to his bento, pushing it aside.

Kageyama curiously curled his lips to the side. Cocking an eyebrow, he prodded at his boyfriend, “Are _you_ good?” Cornflower met caramel as they shared a look. A small hum from Hinata told him that he was alright, but Kageyama believed otherwise. That look in his eyes; it was pleading. 

* * *

Practice was more-or-less a bust. At least, that’s what thought was at the forefront of the small decoy’s mind. Hunched over, a sharp and nagging pain coursing through his abdomen, Hinata counted the minutes until practice ended. 98, to be exact.

It didn’t help that Coach Ukai clearly had a personal vendetta against them (at least in the redhead’s mind), each player in nearly the same position as Hinata -- if not, their hands were atop their heads and heaving chests faced the ceiling. As the others regained their vigor enough to joke and laugh, though, Hinata’s breaths continued to come in short, laborious gasps that left his innards feeling as though they were contorting and twisting about within his body. 

A single shout is an executive order for Hinata’s head. “12 laps around the gym, sprint!” A simple task, really. But with his intestines so jumbled, breaths simple puffs of air, and head pounding against his eyes, blood pumping in his ears, Hinata didn’t know if he could take even a single step more. He starts anyway, mindful to blend in with the others -- don’t fall behind; don’t push ahead. Just inhale-exhale-inhale-exhale through that knife stabbing at your stomach. 

Next, receives. He supposed it went fine, considering he already tended to do poorly in that area. He swallowed harshly when a sardonic laugh made its way to his ear; “It’s almost like it’s the beginning of the year again!” He didn’t question who said it, only focused on not collapsing on the hardwood floor. His stomach should be a gymnast, he thought, with all of its tumbles and flips. An involuntary shiver ran through him as a tsunami of pain made its way to shore. 

“5 minutes!” A chorus of relieved sighs and exclamations echoed in the gym, and the boys made their way towards the bench. Unsteadily, Hinata followed suit, his legs quivering and body tense. _It’ll pass with a swig of water,_ he told himself. But when his trembling hands brought the water bottle up to his mouth, the opening knocking lightly against his teeth, he came to regret that thought. 

It was all too much.

The shouts of Nishinoya and Tanaka.

The choir of heavy breathing and the squeal of shoes against the polished floor. 

The sweat dripping down his back, the migraine threatening at his temples.

That awful twisting in his gut.

Hinata found himself on the floor propped on his hands and knees, his entire body burning and aching. The whole team had encircled him. His arms shook, but he was soon held protectively in someone’s arms. He grasped at their shirt, a wet sob broke past his lips, and he turned his face into them as strong hands rubbed circles into his quivering back. _Kageyama._

He was covered in his own vomit. The floor was. The equipment was. Everything.

A hand, slightly cold to the touch, tenderly pushed his soaked bangs back from his forehead. As the black dots, piercing at his eyes, fade away, he sees the blurry face of Suga, gentle brows furrowed and his face pale with worry. “Hey,” he cooed, voice as lilting and soothing as ever. As the ringing in his ears quieted, but never truly disappeared, he could hear someone on the phone. His eyes flitted around the room anxiously, and his heart rate spiked. 

“Hey, now, Hinata, look at me, okay?” That hand, still holding back his sweaty hair, gently scraped at his scalp, and he surrendered to the touch. “What’s wrong?” So the interrogation began. 

A pained groan was as suitable a response as Sugawara had expected “Understandable,” Daichi’s booming voice, disquieted, pitched in from behind the setter. “Here,” he whispered, handing something to Suga that Hinata couldn’t make out. He twitched nervously in Kageyama’s -- whom he was relying completely on to sit up -- arms. “Don’t worry,” Sugawara reassured, his presence relaxing Hinata’s frantic pulse, “I’m just going to check your temperature.”

His senses returned to him slowly, but he could feel the thermometer underneath his tongue as the thermometer read his temperature. His eyes, dazed and misty-eyed, settled on Suga, his soft features quelling his panic. A small beep-beep-beep reached his ears, and the thermometer was taken back.  
  
His eyes shifted up to his captain, who hissed as he read the temperature. “38.5.” A groan rang throughout the gym and only then did Hinata fully comprehend just how close everyone was. It was suddenly too hot, too stuffy, _too close._

“Okay, kiddo. Give him some space, guys!” Daichi ordered. Had he said that last bit out loud? He didn’t care, Hinata decided, simply needing to end the agony riddling his stomach. His exhale was trembling as he weakly pressed closer to Kageyama. 

“Is it your stomach?” the raven-haired setter spoke softly in his ear. He nodded minutely, hands snaking around his own midsection. He hissed as Kageyama adjusted his grip on his feverish body, the movement jostling his tender pains far too greatly. He couldn’t help the whimper from escaping, his eyes screwed shut, as Kageyama rose to his feet, carrying him with the grace that could only belong to a setter towards the bench. 

Hinata could feel hot tears stinging his eyes, angry with himself (for his weakness, he supposed), ashamed, and unable to stop the small whines of pain that slipped past his parted lips. He fell asleep to Kageyama’s soft whispers of, “It’s okay, Shou, you’re alright. I’m here.” 

30 minutes later, he awoke to the stabbing in his gut, but he was somehow in his bed, blankets tossed about from his tossing. Downstairs, he could hear, and _smell_ , his mother cooking. But the thought of food simply made him blanch. 

* * *

As he shuffled into the gym Hinata steeled himself for the inevitable confrontation with his team; their demands as to why he was there. Their eyes turned to him and he was already prepared to shrug off their questions and answer half-heartedly. But what he had expected to be simple turned out to be more difficult than the arduous bike ride across the mountains (he would be sure to keep to himself the fact that he had to take several breaks, and had once found himself collapsed on the side of the road, trying to keep from spewing on the asphalt). 

Hinata received a massive chewing-out from the entire team, Suga’s own reprimands surprisingly harsh. Seated on the bench, he observed the other boys’ practice, watching but not entirely _seeing_ , gaze distant and hazy. There were painful goosebumps tickling at his skin and a shiver coursed through his back. 

Rubbing his tense neck, the muscles knotted and hot, Kageyama glanced over at his boyfriend, doubled over at the bench. A curse was hissed through gnashed teeth as he made his way over to him in long, agitated strides. 

Knocking the redhead’s shoulder lightly with his clenched fist, the setter asked pointedly, “Hey, shrimp, when was the last time you ate?” Doe-eyes sluggishly turned towards him, and Kageyama found himself gulping back in apprehension, the heat leaving his body. He gnawed at his lip tentatively. “Hey,” he pressed. 

A storm of violent tremors ran through Hinata’s small body, quivering and haggard, leaving behind the damage of a natural disaster. As he answers, “I think I had a banana yesterday?” Kageyama’s calculating eyes are glued to the decoy’s face -- the lines and contours gaunt, the dark circles (he had been kept up by pain all night) beneath those normally vibrant eyes unsettling. 

The taller boy cursed, color draining from his face, “Hinata!” His face scrunched in what he wished was fury -- Kageyama wanted to be angry, he really did. He knew how to deal with anger. But this concern, all-consuming and disastrous, left his heart in disarray and his mind jumbled. He could feel his nails digging into his palms, carving small crescents into the skin.

“I swear, I’m not hungry!” Hinata defended, his voice weak and breaking. His hands, clumsy and shaking, reached out to grab at Kageyama’s sleeve -- what for, he didn’t know. He worried at the inside of his lip, a drop of frigid sweat trickling down his back. He leaned forward, just missing Kageyama’s arm as the player turned away.

Shouting, his voice reverberated throughout the room, the drills slowing so each teenager could peek at the situation, “Coach!” He threw on his jacket, quickly zipping it up to his chest. “I’m taking Hinata home!” In a huff, he switches his shoes with mastered precision and throws his bag over his broad shoulder.

“W-wha-! No, Kageyama, you can’t do that!” Hinata stammered, his arms crossing over his body as he firmly planted himself on the bench. “I have scho-” A sputtering gasp pushed its way through his lips. That pain that he had nearly become accustomed to had morphed into something loathsomely sharper; something localized. His stomach, set ablaze, convulsed excruciatingly, and his hand shot up to clamp over his mouth. The corners of his vision tunneled inwards, that obnoxious, drowning ringing returning to consume all sound. 

“Shou?” When had Kageyama kneeled in front of him? His hand, comforting with its strength, yet tenderness, was braced upon his knee. The team stole glances from behind the setter, frozen mid-motion. They inch closer and closer still.

A look at his boyfriend, lip caught between his teeth, worry etched into that already pressed face, led Hinata to unsteadily clamber to his feet. “I-I’m fi-fine,” he jumbled out, swaying and lurching, his face green. He slipped, plummeting into Kageyama’s arms, safe, a haven. “S-sorry.” He quaked, willing the wave to pass as Kageyama eased him back down onto the metal bench. 

His hand, sturdy and reassuring, rubbed shapes into his knee. “It’s okay, Shouyou, take your time.” Even with his arms wrapped constrictingly around his turning stomach, the redhead peeked through his curly bangs -- which were needing a trim -- to stare lovingly at his boyfriend, his powder blue eyes like the dusk sky, swirling with stars. “But,” Kageyama hesitated a moment to nibble at his bottom lip, “You really should get home and try to rest, you know.”

“R-right.”

Suddenly, a weight settles on Tobio’s shoulder -- Takeda’s voice filtered into their little bubble, “I’ll take him home, Kageyama.” The setter whirled around to look up at his teacher, a set of keys jangled in his extended hand. He smiled gently, “You should stay and practice instead, okay?”

Despite his better-intuition asking-- no, begging-- him to say otherwise, he sputtered out, “O-Okay. Thanks.” His eyes, wavering and uncertain, flicked to Hinata’s. The apprehension and panic he sensed made every fiber of his body scream, “ _Stay with him!”_

But, 5 minutes later, Hinata was being guided from the gym, Takeda’s hand braced on his elbow, and Kageyama was twirling a ball in his hands, his teammates calling for sets.

* * *

“Are you sure you’ll be alright alone? Do you need me to walk you in?” Takeda broached gently, shifting the vehicle into park. He unlocked the car and turned to gaze at Hinata, slumped against the cold window, moving to rest his bent arm on the center console. 

Twitching uncomfortably, the redhead clutched onto the small handle, pushing the car door ajar. “Mmhmm, I’ll be okay,” he laughed weakly, the look in his eyes entirely contradictory. As his feet hit the pavement of his driveway he stifled the urge to cry out, trapping the sound behind his teeth. When he turned around to retrieve his school bag, an attempt at a smile, which appeared closer to a pained grimace, lined his features. “Thank you.”

Hinata didn’t care to announce his entrance as he dragged himself into the house, bothering only to slip his shoes off while entering. His bags clattered to the floor, and he couldn’t bring himself to worry whether he had disturbed the others in the house. His vision faded as he trudged up the stairs, his knuckles bone-white as he gripped the stair-rail. 

He crawled into his bed, clad into a soft shirt Tobio had left at his house, the smell and reminder of _him_ helping to calm the churning and biting of his stomach. It was nice, but it never quite substituted for the real thing. He settled into his covers, burrowing underneath their warmth, and faded into a fitful sleep, arms snaking around his abdomen. 

He didn’t wake up for several hours. 

* * *

Later that evening, in the Karasuno gym, Kageyama wrung his hands, slick with sweat, nervously. “He’ll be okay,” He heard Sugawara call from behind him, his tone consoling. But, the first-year couldn’t help but feel apprehensive about the whole situation. Shouyou had honestly looked _horrendous_. And he was so scared, Kageyama could tell.

Attempting to shake the thoughts out of his head, the setter rolled his shoulders and took a swig from his uncapped water. It was stale and room temperature -- unsatisfying. He set it down again, screwing the lid on again. Toying with his lip, he watched as the other players stretched and joked, but couldn’t bring himself to join. He just wanted to see Hinata.

An obnoxious song blasted throughout the gym suddenly, snapping Kageyama from his stupor. Gasping, he frantically lunged for his bag, digging for his cell. It was Hinata’s ringtone -- his favorite song. A shiver ran up Kageyama’s spine when Nishinoya and Tanaka creeped over his shoulder, lurking. His hand clamped around the small device, vibrating and singing still. He slid his finger across the screen frantically, “Hello?” 

He took a moment to worry about how rushed and jumbled his words were, breathless and too-eager. But all thoughts were fully erased when a sound was carried through the line. 

“Tobio,” A heart wrenching sob echoed through Kageyama’s head as his eyes widened and his stomach dropped. “Tobio, help. I-” Shrill, choked cries cut him off, filling all of the vacant space created by Kageyama’s silence.

He bristled at the sounds, and the team took immediate notice, practice halting in its entirety. Many joined Tanaka and Nishinoya, all encircling Kageyama as he crouched on the floor, his breath spiking in anxiety. He swallowed. “Shou, what’s wrong? Shou?” 

He only briefly thought about how he hardly used nicknames around the rest of his team. 

Through wails and frenzied huffs of air Kageyama heard, “To-Tobio, please, my stomach--I-” He was interrupted again by his own wails. 

Kageyama hissed a curse through his teeth, and each and every person present knew what it meant -- the situation was bad. No questions arose as he moved towards his bags and began slipping his jacket over his sweat-soaked practice jersey. “I’ll be there soon, Shouyou; just hang on for me.”

The other was nearly suffocating on his breaths, the agonized gasps sending spikes through Kageyama’s chest and launching his mind into a spiraling panic of what-ifs. The redhead on the other end, muffled by something, managed to answer yet, “H-hurry, please, Tobio.”

“Hinata,” his tone hardened: firm, terribly distressed, and endeared all at the same time, “Listen, I need you to breathe.” He was close to hyperventilation. “ _Breathe,”_ he reiterated, “In, out, in, out.” He ignored the alarmed looks he received, like spears thrust into his back. The unsteady breaths, still shuttering with each inhale, slowed, thank Kageyama’s stars. 

Takeda is standing just where Kageyama had prayed he would be: by the door with keys clutched in his trembling hands. Never before had Kageyama been so thankful for his teacher’s talents for observing -- he knew he needed to get there quickly.

“I’m gonna stay on the line, okay, Shou?” The words tumbled from his lips as he stepped from the gym and towards Takeda’s vehicle, each stride long and rushed. “Talk to me, and breathe. Can you stand? There’s medicine in your cabinet.” He knew because Hinata had gotten a fairly nasty headache the other day, and Tobio was fortunate enough to find himself in the role of personal nurse. He would’ve taken care of him anyway, though. 

“N-no… I-I,” Another whine resonated in his ears, the noise muddled -- a definite no. He only resisted the urge to bark vulgar obscenities for the sake of his ailing boyfriend and teacher as he clambered into the car.

“Just... Just hang on, Shouyou,” he murmured, mostly to calm his own hectically pulsing heart. He flashed a look towards Takeda, eyes swimming with tears, and the teacher grit his teeth, pressing his foot firmer onto the pedal.

At some-point during their frenzied drive, the entire event a blur and yet lasting a million years to Kageyama, the connection had been lost between the call. He cursed the mountains and cell towers, fully knowing that it made no difference what he thought or what situation was occuring. 

When they finally pull into Hinata’s drive-through, Kageyama itching to launch from the car, the setter flung his door open and barreled into the house (he praised whatever deity had been so blessed as to tempt Hinata to slip him an extra key). 

“Shou!” he bellowed, storming into the domestic home, unfit for the chaos raging through him. “Shou!” He teared through each room, careless for the state they were left in.

The whimpers filtering from upstairs queued him, and immediately he was bounding up the staircase, each step an insignificant obstacle as he pummeled through. Barging into the dark room, Kageyama took not a single breath before he dove for the small crumpled figure on the unmade bed. 

“Hey, hey.” He kneeled, his hands instinctively flying to run through Hinata’s curly locks, untamely and wet with sweat. “I’m here now.” 

His lips, vacant of all color, trembled. Fat tears rolled down his ghastly cheeks, path skewed as he curled in on his side, arms wrapped protectively, and yet tentatively, around his midsection, his hands pale and cold. “T-Tobi-” he tried, only for another torrential wave of pain to flow through him. 

The panic wedging itself into Kageyama’s mind, he rushed out, “Hey, talk to me Hinata.” But as the boy before him blanched, green tinting his pallor, his heart sank to his feet. 

“B-bathroo-” There wasn’t enough time for him to finish -- it seemed there never was -- before a harsh hiccup ripped itself from his throat, his hand slapping over his own mouth. Without thinking, and with brilliant speed, Kageyama scooped him into his arms, body feeling unnervingly small and fragile, he surged towards the restroom down the hall. 

By the time they had crossed the threshold, it was far too late -- it had already begun.

It was all over Kageyama’s shirt, Hinata’s pants, his lap, his entire body. 

However, it continued as Hinata scrambled towards the toilet, throwing himself over it, retching over and over and _over_ again. Futilely, Kageyama took to rubbing his partner’s back, convulsing with each heave, and smoothing the sweaty bangs away from Hinata’s burning forehead. 

At the time, Kageyama had thought the noises from over the phone were the most wretched things ever conceived, but as he was forced to listen to the unbearable gags he wished to go back. These were sobs stopped only by the terrible choking that came with the upheaval of one’s own stomach contents. He clenched his eyes closed, sick to his own stomach. 

Only after Hinata had finally finished, panting breaths raw from innumerable rounds of dry-heaving, did Kageyama finally take notice. He stared, pupils shrunk, at Hinata, slumped limply against his chest. 

Those lips -- stained red.

The toilet brimming with blood swirled bile.

Their clothes soaked with a deep crimson.

_This was bad._

**Author's Note:**

> big thank u to @Tmalasia on the izuocha temple server for editing this!! ilysm! pls go check out mal's stuff, it's amazing!! <3
> 
> so i actually finished this last night but i couldn't post it cuz i only had my school laptop and um when i went to ao3,,, it turned out that i was flagged and reported to my school board for,,,,,, umm, y'know. and now i am terrified for my life.
> 
> anywho!! second chapter of this is in the planning stage, so pls stay tuned!!! i rlly hope u enjoyed this first part, hopefully it wasn't too OOC and jarring aha,,,
> 
> also, i have *another* kagehina fic that i'm planning rn that should just be a short one-shot, only maybe 2K, so expect that soon!!
> 
> now,,,,!!  
> just a word about the crisis happening rn (if u don't care or think this could trigger you, pls skip!)  
> with all of the chaos happening rn, i'd like to just advice everyone to stay safe and calm -- pls practice good hygiene and do all you can to protect yourself (do elbow bumps instead of high fives, cough into ur elbows, wash ur hands frequently, disinfect surfaces, etc.) without going to excess. that's what's making everyone freak out, so do your best to know your own situation and stay rational!  
> i'm sending good thoughts to everyone and their health rn, pls stay safe and healthy!! <333
> 
> thank you for reading!!! much love~! <3


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